


I used to be an...

by Werewolf_Prince_Charming



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Crack, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Established Relationship, Gen, Groin Grinding, Hawkbros, Hawkeye vs Deadpool (2014), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, References to Video Games, Timeline What Timeline, Uncomfortable Make-Outs, but really not a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 15:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6430204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werewolf_Prince_Charming/pseuds/Werewolf_Prince_Charming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misunderstandings. Shenanigans. Dropped hot dogs. Broken satellite dishes. And sweet, sweet revenge. Purposefully confusing.</p><p>(Formatting error caused a loss of half the text. Fixed it. Just in case you were confused.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I used to be an...

[Let's play a little game, he said. See if you can catch me, he said. It'll be an fun adventure, we said!]

{I used to be an...}

“Don't,” howled the injured merc. “That's my line so don't you fucking dare.”

A muffled voice called out from the squirming body trapped between him and the roof. Deadpool winced in sympathy. As much as Wade truly wanted to move, lift up, roll over, anything, his joints were locked in place. Also locked was one shiny purple bow drawn back with an even shinier tipped arrow trained dead center between his eyes owned by one shiny-haired Hawkeye. 

Deadpool really couldn't afford a hole in his mask right now. He groaned. A louder, angrier groan responded from beneath him.

“Aw dammit, Wade, stop bleeding on the victim. Haven't you done enough damage,” a third man chided and rolled him onto his back.

As soon as he was free, the trapped Spider-Man leapt up on the metal vent with a clang and lifted his 'rescuer' by neck. His eyes narrowed, widened to shock, and narrowed again.

“Clint, buddy, you're the best Hawkeye again, by default because the other one turned me into a pincushion here. Congratulations! Would you like your prize in photographs of this blood and gore masterpiece or should I just use my wily ways to convince Spidey to let you go?”

Clint held up two fingers to Wade.

“Hey, pumpkin. Guess what,” Deadpool sang.

“What is it, Wade,” Spider-Man growled.

“I used to be an adventurer like you, but then I took an arrow to the knee!”

{Nailed it.}

[Kudos for waiting for the timing.]

Clint was lowered back down to the roof an inch as red spandex-covered shoulders shook. Then another, and another, and another until Hawkeye was dropped, coughing and unbalanced. Spider-Man plastered himself against the vent and beat it with a fist in time with ridiculous guffaws. 

It wasn't until Clint choked out, “Okay. This looks bad.” that Kate finally lowered her bow in confusion.

>>>\-----------> EARLIER

“Clint. All you have in here in a package of hot dogs and part of some week old pizza,” Kate yelled from the fridge.

“Yeah! Grilling time,” the blond archer cheered.

He jumped up from the couch, leapt over it, and snatched the processed meat from her hands.

“Race ya to the roof!”

“Clint! Are those even still good?” She huffed in annoyance.

Rolling her eyes dramatically, her gaze settled on the dog. Lucky looked up at her with tongue lolling. She shrugged a shoulder at the dog and sighed. 

“Why do we put up with the idiot,” inquiring as she patted Lucky on the head.

The young archer gathered up some condiments in a used plastic bag. Kate grabbed her bow and the stale box of pizza. Might as well have some fun while she was at it, she supposed.

Once on the roof, she noted that Clint already had a fire on the grill roaring. Dancing around, shaking his hand like he already got his first burn. Know his luck, he'd need 10 more bandages and probably set at least one of the current ones wrapped around his fingers on fire.

She went to work setting the pizza box against the side of the stairwell. 

“Mother-” Clint cut off his own yelp with a sharp rip of bandage pulling from flesh and some slaps against his singed arm hair.

Kate smirked.

“Shoulda went with Nair, Clint.”

The older Hawkeye grumbled under his breath. Something about brats.

Thwap. Thud.

Perfect accuracy. Right between the cartoon emperor's eyes. Kate wiped her knuckles on her shirt.

“Pfft. Watch this.”

“Hey! My bow!”

“It was my bow first.”

Clint slotted in four arrows against the string. Releasing with a snap and four simultaneous thuds, all four pepperonis on the slice held aloft by the emperor were pierced through the centers. Kate glared.

Clint tossed the bow back to her over his shoulder as we went back to check on the hot dogs. She fought to ignored his pleased-with-himself whistling.

Kate considered nocking two arrows, but Clint was by her side again with a bun-less dog held out to her. He shrugged as she dangled it between her forefinger and thumb with a scrunched face.

“How am I supposed to eat this? Plain?”

“Dohwf.”

She watched in horror as Clint tilted his head back and opened his mouth to pour in condiment after condiment on top of an entire already chewed hot dog. She barely had time to repress a gag when THWIP! hit the satellite dish.

“Shit,” Clint grumbled.

But before he had time to think about replacing the dish yet again, Spider-Man flung over the side of the apartment complex and landed on the ledge.

“Civilians! And a barbeque! Not this way!” The web-slinger shouted over his shoulder. He skidded to a halt between the Hawkeyes and turned to face the way he came, sparing a searching glance to his left and right. He clearly needed an escape route.

Combat boots stomped to the ledge of the adjacent building. Leather gloves wrung against each other with creaks. And a wide grin spread under the red and black mask. Clint and Kate stood frozen in shock and confusion. Apparently, things have changed in the many months since Halloween.

“When has the threat of collateral damage ever stopped me, honeybuns,” boomed Deadpool. “It's like you don't know me at all. Now stop playing hard to get, Spidey!”

“Deadpool! No!”

But Spider-Man's plea was too late. Deadpool smacked something on his belt and in a flash, he'd spanned the distance between buildings. Spider-Man turned to run, but it was too late. The mercenary tackled him down and he slammed face-first into the asphalt roofing courtesy of a hand to the back of his head.

“We're gonna do this right here in front of these poor, traumatized civilians, sweetheart,” Deadpool punctuated the threat with a thrust of his hips into Spider-Man's ass.

“Nope,” Kate spat. “Nope nope nope.”

She ignored the older Hawkeye's “aw hot dog” as she let it fall to the ground and nocked back four arrows, letting them fly without hesitation. Sick shit like that was just the reason she took up archery in the first place. 

Spider-Man barely got out a cry of “Wade!” before the arrows pierced Deadpool's knee and elbow joints causing him to smash the superhero even further into the roof.

{What the actual shit?!}

[This went well. Don't you agree?]

“Holy hostility, Hawkchick! Hateful hellos are one of my hobbies, however I had hoped you held high regard for our hero history!”

>>>\---------------> LATER

“Wade, you don't have to do this. Please,” Kate cried out. “Wade, no!”

“Wade, yes,” the merc grinned sadistically, face mask-less and shaded by his hood only emphasized the twisted pleasure.

An explosion rocked the room. There was a sharp gasp from Wade's right, and Deadpool reached out to squeeze Peter's hand as the web-slinger balanced his tip-toes on the arm rest. Only the musical track from the TV could be heard amongst them. Kate's head rolled back onto the couch, her eyes wide and mouth slack.

“Damn,” Clint sputtered in shock, looking to the two sat on opposite sides of him. “That was just sick.”

Wade let out a whoop, and pulled Peter in for a deep kiss. His fingers gripped Peter's hair just to the border of painful and made sure he stayed pressed against his lips. The younger man wrapped his arms around Wade's neck and lifted a leg over the mercenary's lap to hold on to him with all four limbs. Then there was moaning.

Clint scooted away from the couple in horror, and poked at Kate who was still staring at the ceiling next to him. She remained unresponsive.

Only when Peter's gasps for air reached Clint's hearing aids did the archer turn back around.

“Nice job, Wade,” Peter grinned.

Wade batted his eyelashes, “Anything for you, Pooky.”

“Thank you,” Peter punctuated with kisses, “For avenging me.”

Deadpool's eyes went wide with glee and he pushed Peter off his chest. Wade held up one bare hand towards his boyfriend. The latter looked cautiously to it.

“Avengers high five?”

The two cheered as they slapped palms.

Clint rolled his eyes as he grabbed another slice of pizza from the coffee table, “You're not Avengers.”

The pair waved him off as Peter went in for another kiss. Clint cursed at sauce dripped onto his white t-shirt. Kate groaned beside him. 

And Birdo danced on a podium in first place with fireworks flashing across the TV screen.

Clint stared at Bowser in 2nd place, Yoshi in 3rd, and Daisy in 4th. Goddamn 4th place. He grumbled around a full mouth of cheesy goodness. 

“Anyone up for another round,” Clint inquired, licking his fingers clean.

Peter spun in Wade's lap and Kate snapped to attention, causing the couch to rock even with all four of them on it. Spider-Man smoothed down his shirt and wiggled into Wades lap, gaining him a moan from the older man that both Hawkeyes pointedly ignored. Peter webbed his and Wade's Wii remotes to them and settled in before the screen began to count down.

3  
2  
1  
GO!

“Hahahaha! Heck yeah!”

“You did not just do that!”

“Aww mushroom. Bye mushroom.”

“Take that, you son of a whore!!”

{Gasp!} 

“Petey!!”

[He just brought your mother into it. Are you going to stand for that?]

“Your momma....”

“Jesus H. Christ! Ben Franklin's ghost is still here?!”


End file.
